


The Importance of FunRoms in Modern Interstellar Travel

by wllw



Category: Star Control
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-25
Updated: 2011-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wllw/pseuds/wllw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fwiffo and the crew of the StarRunner have been given an important mission. Someday, they might even get around to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of FunRoms in Modern Interstellar Travel

On the morning of April 1, 2161 by the Earth calendar, in orbit around the first planet of Alpha Mersenne for repairs, something appeared on the monitor of the voidship StarRunner, and Spathi Captain Fwiffo found himself wishing, not for the first time, that the Safe Ones had been kind enough to wait for him before covering their planet with the safe, protecting light of the Slave Shield.

The StarRunner, at the time it received the transmission, was on its way to Thraddash space for what the Chmrr representative had been careful to describe as a 'diplomatic mission' on behalf of the New Alliance of Free Stars. This, in Fwiffo's understanding, usually involved stronger races intimidating weaker races with large weapons, something he did not feel particularly qualified for, especially lacking the aforementioned large weapons.

No, the Chmrr had explained, the goal of this particular mission was to spy on the Ilwrath and the Thraddash, and report on the status of the war — or, as the Hunam Captain Zelnick had been kind enough to translate, see if anyone is still alive. Thus, the presence of a large fleet and powerful weapons would be detrimental to the mission, they'd added, as they would only draw attention.

The word 'spy' was reassuring, as it implied not being seen by the enemy and running away very fast if you were, an activity which Fwiffo was greatly in favor of. In fact, the Captain had explained, Fwiffo had been selected specifically for his proficiency in it. Unfortunately, any relief he could have felt was immediately tracked down and brutally murdered by the mention of the Ilwrath and the Thraddash. Now, if he'd had any say in the matter, which unfortunately he did not, he'd have suggested they just let them kill each other so that they wouldn't terrorize any other poor, defenseless race ever again. The Alliance had determined this was not an acceptable solution. The situation had to be surveilled.

This had left Fwiffo with very little choice but obey the extremely powerful alliance of aliens with the very big fleet. Finding himself locked out of his home planet in a vast, extremely dangerous universe, there was really nowhere else he could go.

This is how Fwiffo found himself traveling in a woefully understaffed ship towards Thraddash space, where hopefully he would find reinforcements; assuming of course they hadn't been annihilated, which seemed likely. The voyage had been going relatively smoothly. They had encountered plenty of dangers, as usual, but none that couldn't be run from.

This, in retrospect, should have been a clear warning sign.

It was not an unexpected development, of course. The presence of terrifying horrors in the depths of space was always a given. But seeing one suddenly appear on his screen was enough to send even the most courageous of Spathi whimpering behind the closest piece of furniture large enough to provide sufficient protection (which on an Eluder were numerous and placed in strategic positions to maximize safety). Fwiffo wanted nothing more than to do just that. He was, however, painfully aware that every moment of inaction would increase his already high — almost certain — chances of dying a horrible death. The situation called for immediate measures to be taken.

Normally, at this point, Fwiffo would have done what any sane individual would: turn the StarRunner around and speed away as fast as the engines allowed. Unfortunately, the repairs weren't finished, and energy cells hadn't finished recharging. Besides, the computer could not identify the source of the signal, and running away was not easy to do without knowing what you were running away _from_.

Faced with such difficulties, he would have turned on the ship's intercom and notified the crew of the immediate danger. He would then have reminded them that, as the ship could only be piloted by Spathi, he was the only one who could bring them to safety and therefore it was in their best interest him to protect him, hopefully with their lives.

This is what he would have done, had the StarRunner's intercom not been damaged two days before in a regrettable encounter with a stray Avenger two days ago.

Therefore, it seemed he'd have to inform his shipmates in person in the hopes they would know what to do, a course of action he was somewhat reluctant to take. Partly because, due to the lack of Spathi outside of Spathiwa, the rest of his crew were all members of less sane, less survival-inclined species, and would surely insist on some foolish and suicidal move. And partly because the screeching and shouting which could be heard throughout the ship surely did not bode well for anyone who dared interrupt whatever was going on.

Normally, he'd go to Duna. Despite Fwiffo's skepticism towards taking tactical advice from a member of a race whose idea of tactics was to pilot their ships directly into the line of fire, her knack for it was often useful in situations like this. Unfortunately, Duna had locked herself in one of the crew cabins to perform the Ritual of Distraction from Noisy Shipmates. The Supox, Fern, was unavailable as well, having joined his friend to help with the preparations, about which Fwiffo had carefully refrained from inquiring in the very likely chance that they involved the painful sacrifice of terrified Spathi Captains who asked too many questions. He missed the presence of the two crew members who were slightly less suicidally or homicidally insane than the others. He was not, however, going to argue with someone whose facial expression he could not see. It made it hard to notice signs of sudden, murderous rage.

Which left him to deal with the current crisis alone.

"Attention unidentified horror: this is Spathi Captain Fwiffo of the voidship StarRunner. I represent the New Alliance of Free Stars, an incredibly influential confederation of powerful alien races which would no doubt take immediate hostile action should any harm befall me. Please identify yourself in a friendly, non-threatening manner, and I won't be forced to use the concealed planet-destroying weapons which the Alliance has kindly provided me."

The reply sent Fwiffo flying out of the cockpit.

 

* * *

 

"That is just the attitude I'd expect from a conceited, delinquent, self-righteous, insurrectionary thug such as yerself!"

"If we appear self-righteous, it is merely because we, unlike others, are concerned for the honor and glory of the Yehat, awk!"

"If toppling the traditional and esteemed government of our people is what ye consider honor, ye are mad as an Umgah!"

"That opinion is just as idiotic as ye! We have nothing but respect for our great nation, whose honor was sullied by yer false Queen! It was ye who were as Spathi, too afraid to open yer eyes and see the stain she brought to our race!"

"You were nothing more than vandals, defiling the peace the Veep-neep clan had struggled to uphold!"

"And you were cronies to a corrupt and screeching harridan! If ye and yer High Perch fops had any principles at all, ye'd recognize the TRUE Queen of the Yehat Clans, her majesty Queen Braky Girdy the First!"

"Aye, as we do! It is YE who have proved yerselves to hold no regard for our Royalty!"

"Sycophants!"

"Blasphemers!"

Daikon sighed, and resumed stuffing the synthetic hydrophilic cotton he'd liberated from the infirmary into his ears.

It had only been a minor act of mischief. His ears were unusually large for a Shofixti, which, apart from earning him a few embarrassing nicknames, also made it very unpleasant when his Honorable Teachers started screeching, so the crime was out of necessity. In the cramped metal rooms of the StarRunner, the racket was almost unbearable. Besides, he'd found that the infirmary on a Spathi Eluder was unusually well-stocked. A few supplies wouldn't be missed.

Once he had been sufficiently soundproofed, he turned his attention to the datapad and the notes he'd taken so far:

  1. The Yehat Clans lived in barbaric anarchy. 
  2. The great Zeep-Reep was a great warlord. His brilliant tactics and feats of valor conquered the Breep-Breep Clan, the Veep-Reep Clan (now absorbed by Veep-Neep Clan), and the ~~glorious~~ ~~sullied by barbaric revolution~~ glorious Zeep-Zeep Clan. In his dying breath, Zeep-Reep told his son, Cheep-Reep, that only the Yehat who could unite the warring Clans and bring the Yehat to peace and glory would be worthy of his Perch. 
  3. Many wars were fought over his Perch. 
  4. The High Perch of Caer Zeep-Reep was conquered by a wise Queen who began the Veep-Neep Dynasty, whose judgment ~~never~~ ~~eventually~~ maybe went astray. 
  5. Years of peace and prosperity. 
  6. Adoption and uplifting of the Shofixti (US!!!!). 
  7. Ur-Quan Slave War, the Yehat and the Shofixti joined the Alliance of Free Stars. 
  8. The Queen wisely realized the Yehat would not benefit from this alliance. 
  9. The Queen was a coward who destroyed the Yehat's honor. 
  10. Chirp-Breep is a traitor and a Spathi.



After some deliberation, Daikon decided to erase points 8, 9, and 10. Then, seeing as his Honorable Teachers were still busy, he took his stylus and drew a picture of Daikon. Not himself, though. He drew the great legendary hero Daikon, after whom he had been named. He didn't know exactly what he'd done, but it had to be heroic, or else he wouldn't be a hero. And it was prophesied that he would return one day, so maybe he could ask him for details then. He didn't know what he looked like, either, so he drew him big and tall — almost five feet! — with black fur, because that seemed intimidating. He made his ears very big.

He was busy with his drawing when something poked him in the ribs. Hiyata was trying to whisper something to him. She was his cousin twice removed, daughter of Busu, who had died with glory taking out a Kor-Ah Marauder at the Great Battle of the Sa-Matra. "Hey, Skiff-ears! Look at this," she said, after he'd removed the cotton, and handed him her datapad.

It was a picture of the Glorious Progenitor Tanaka, whose acts of bravery and incredible stamina had helped defeat the Ur-Quan and repopulated the Shofixti race, respectively. He was surrounded by twenty maidens, all very beautiful and considerably less detailed than Tanaka.

"I think there were only sixteen maidens," he whispered back.

"Daikon! Hiyata!" Daikon jumped at Chirp-Breep's screech. He felt his fur stand on end. Behind him, he heard snickering. "What are ye doing!"

Hiyata answered without a hint of hesitation, her fur barely ruffled. "We were just honoring our great ancestor Tanaka, master Chirp-Breep." She grabbed her datapad from Daikon, who was trying to hide the evidence by sitting on it, and showed it to her teacher.

"Aye, it is good to see our youngsters are learning to respect their ancestors. It's a lesson some of us might do well to learn," Meep-Neep said, with a pointed glance at Chirp-Breep.

Daikon sighed once more, and began to stuff the cotton back, when the cabin door slammed open.

"Greetings and salutations, my brothers and sisters!"

It felt a little as if a blinding ray of sunshine had come bouncing into the cabin, Daikon thought. An entire room of Shofixti looked up toward the new arrival as a ship stranded in Ur-Quan space might regard an incoming Avatar fleet. Meep-Neep and Chirp-Breep looked at each other, sheepishly. Meep-Neep tried to hide behind the shorter, stockier Yehat, while Chirp-Breep tried to shrink. Both failed miserably.

Brakky Twitty half swooped, half wobbled over to them, jumping and fluttering over their shoulders to catch a glimpse of Hiyata's datapad. Her eyes lit up.

"The valorous Tanaka! A most brave and spiritually gifted individual! Well, not just spiritually, if you catch my drift. You see, love is a unifying force in the universe. Sort of like glue. And, not unlike the Soolean spiderfly in the spring, it takes many forms. For example, when your illustrious ancestor and all those maidens..." Brakky Twitty trailed off and looked around, beak clicking. A roomful of wide-eyed Shofixti met her gaze.

"But maybe this is not the best time for this. Yes, the constellations of Bis Bis and Blugurky are not auspiciously aligned for such a..." She clicked her beak. "...lesson. Very well! Enlightenment must never be rushed. You know," she continued, "I had the privilege of serving in the Captain's fleet when he first met you progenitor. This was back when I was still a young one, in my twenty-second life. Of course, at the same time, I myself was headed towards our brethren the Yehat in our beautiful mission of discovery, reconciliation and wholeness.

"But I feel you wondering! How is that possible, o wise Brakky Twitty? Worry not, for the answer is actually quite simple. The mystical forces are not bound by boundaries of what we call time. There are even some who believe we are all but one soul, endlessly reincarnating. Completely wrong, of course, but it's something we would all do well to reflect on."

Daikon, who had not, in fact, been wondering anything of the kind, raised his right paw. He was never quite sure what Brakky Twitty talked about, though it always seemed less interesting than the Ur-Quan conflicts, or the Yehat's wars, or the Shofixti's history. On the other hand, she didn't yell, and when he talked Meep-Neep and Chirp-Breep didn't yell either, so Daikon had decided he liked the Pkunk. Besides, she often liked to show FunRoms in class, which was fun.

"Master Brakky Twitty," he said, "can _you_ teach us Yehat history?"

"Or Shofixti," added Chimchim, son of Genji, who had died with glory when the Arilou Skiff he'd been serving on accidentally teleported into Epsilon Camaleopardis II. (The glory of this particular death was sometimes put into question, though never within earshot of Chimchim.)

"Yes! Yes!" howled Gaijin IV, son of Gaijin III, who had died with glory taking out a Mycon Podship at the battle of Gamma Brahe, and Ginzu, daughter of Sushi, who had died with glory taking out an Ilwrath Avenger at the battle of Delta Volantis. (Actually, the Scout had found itself in Poor Tactical Positioning when the Avenger appeared next to it, and the following Hellfire Spout had accidentally triggered the Glory Device, but that part was rarely mentioned.)

Brakky Twitty bobbed her head up and down. "Ah, yes! The Yehat Civil War! Such a regrettable and violent incident. But, not unlike the pustulant, foul-smelling egg sack from which the Boholian fireduck hatches — at least when it doesn't explode — from it arose a new era of peace, understanding and other neat thingies!"

Daikon frowned. He thought of the fleet of a thousand Yehat, their Terminators painted red, led by Cheep-Guava's admirals, Gaar-Eep and Braap-Eep, swooping down on the Queen's armada during the ambush at Alpha Serpentis. It sounded rather cool, and not pustulant at all. Hiyata elbowed him and shot him a quizzical look. Daikon just shrugged.

"But is it not the job of my beloved Yehat brothers to educate you in matters of history? I would not wish to intrude upon such an important task! Such an act could disrupt the synergy of this ship, plunging us all into spiritual untidiness!"

"Actually..." Daikon began, then trailed off, glancing at Meep-Neep and Chirp-Breep. Both Yehat were conspicuously quiet.

"Oh! I sense that the synergy has already been disturbed. I see what you mean, my furry and spiritually gifted young friend!" Brakky Twitty turned to him, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "How perceptive of you to notice."

"Um. Thanks."

"Now, what could possibly have caused such a disturbance? That is the question we must all ask ourselves."

Meep-Neep and Chirp-Breep quietly pointed at each other.

"Such things can have many causes, you know. Sometimes, even the flutter of an elliptical dragonfly can cause spiritual disturbances light years away," Brakky Twitty went on, and Daikon wondered if she hadn't noticed the two Yehat, or if she was deliberately ignoring them. "But there is one solution, and I shall give it to you!"

She turned to Meep-Neep and Chirp-Breep. "We must utter the Original Squawk, which the enlightened Weeny Wikki Beeki Birdi first gave while sitting upon The Mystical Egg of Icelike Temperature. It will serve as the flashlight on the dark tunnel to enlightenment, just as it did to us Pkunk. Are you ready, my friends?"

"Is that absolutely ne—" Chirp-Breep thumped Meep-Neep on the head with his wing.

"At the top of your voices! One... two..." began Brakky Twitty, as Daikon scrambled for his earplugs.

"Ah," the Pkunk was saying a few minutes later, when Daikon decided it was safe to return to the world of the hearing. "Don't you feel all warm and fuzzy now, my friends?"

"I thank ye for yer guidance, Master Brakky Twitty," said Meep-Neep with a deep bow, an elegant tangle of beak and wings. "I shall consider what ye have taught us." Chirp-Breep muttered something under his breath, but he bowed as well. Around him, all the Shofixti seemed rather rattled. Hiyata's fur was standing on end. Daikon was suddenly very thankful for the Spathi's well-stocked infirmaries.

"And now, to promote unity and oneness, why don't we watch an informative FunRo—"

The door to the makeshift classroom slammed open, and a green, one-eyed blur streaked through.

They heard a metallic door slide shut in the distance.

"Perhaps the disturbances are more serious than we thought," Brakky Twitty said through the silence.

 

* * *

 

Fern stood thoughtfully before the sealed door. "I assume you have tried forcing it."

"Yes." The little furry one — Daikon, he believed — sounded rather annoyed. "That was the alarm you heard two minutes ago."

"I see. And no doubt you have also attempted to communicate with him."

"Of course we did." The taller Yehat, Meep-Neep, snapped his beak. "The cowards have completely soundproofed the cabin."

"Ah, of course. A feature I must admit I have appreciated, on occasion. Hmm." He stroked his chin with a leaf. Behind him, the two Yehat stood fidgeting and snorting in annoyance, stooping slightly — the narrow, maze-like passages of the StarRunner had not been built for beings so tall. Brakky Twitty fluttered about, and many small, furry Shofixti ran by, busy with their own errands. Duna paced thoughtfully up and down the corridor, her simple but elegant Mask of Veiled Annoyance at Unwanted Interruptions flowing behind her.

In the distance, he could hear the recorded message repeat over and over from the cockpit, like the burbling of a poisoned stream, or the echo of a distant avalanche, coming to uproot plants and block the nurturing sun. They hadn't found a way to turn it off.

He tried to ignore it. There was a job to be done.

Normally, his people left the pursuit of knowledge to the Utwig, knowing they were but saplings next to them. But, in the effort to imitate — and, therefore, understand — their masked friends, some Supox had taken an interest in the acquisition and circulation of information, and their new allies, the humans, had provided the perfect setup. Thus, Giant Sequoia Grove Institute was founded, and Professor Fern of the Department of Xeno-sociology had turned his attention to the study of the many other species they were lucky — or not so lucky — to share a galaxy with, from the proud Yehat to the inexplicable Mycon.

This, coupled with his experience as a navigator during the campaign against the Kohr-Ah, gave him perfect credentials for such a mission.

Of course, so far, his expertise had mainly been employed in getting capricious crew members out of the crew cabins. Just the previous week, a particularly threatening asteroid had sent Fwiffo hiding under the closest secure-looking piece of cloth he could find, which had turned out to be Duna's Veil of Restful Slumber — this, in turn, had caused Duna to lock herself in a cabin for a few hours until Fern convinced her that Fwiffo hadn't _meant_ to breach Mask Etiquette.

But dealing with a Spathi was an entirely different experience. Even _Professor Zorg's Guide to Alien Etiquette_ 's advice ("BLUFF") wasn't helping.

The Spathi were such a fascinating race, but they were often very difficult to handle. Fern had never before needed to prove to anyone that he was not poisonous. He had the impression that Fwiffo was still not convinced.

He'd tried to understand the Spathi's psychology, once, and spent an entire afternoon hiding under a bed. He'd stayed there until Duna, wearing her Visage of Concern for a Friend, convinced him to come out for a spot of water and artificial sunlight. He'd emerged with no more understanding than he'd started with, although he did have a slight feeling of dread around teddy bears for a few days.

"Hoot! His kind are more trouble than they are worth!" said Chirp-Breep beside him, as if he'd been reading his mind. "If only the Alliance had chosen a capable pilot—"

"Do not be so quick to scorn the Spathi, my avian friend!" Brakky Twitty exclaimed. "They are an odd people, cursed by unknown spiritual forces to awareness. Would you not cower in fear too, if you were on first name terms with all the perils in the universe? We should all ponder that." She paused and tapped her long middle claw on her beak, muttering, "ponder, ponder." Her head bobbed up and down.

"Or maybe they're just spineless cowards," she concluded. "Their sickly green auras could indicate either."

"Hmm." Duna's eyes glazed over behind her veil. "Awareness can be a terrible thing if not offered with the proper guidance. It is unfortunate that not everyone can yet enjoy the benefits that the Ultron offers. Perhaps we should endeavor to bring them spiritual direction. Maybe in time they will even learn to cover their unseemly visages! I shall consult the Ultron on this."

Fern decided it was best to divert that train of thought before it could cause damage.

"It would be a good start if we could get the intercom working again. Perhaps we could focus our efforts towards that goal?"

"Not an entirely worthless idea," said Meep-Neep. "It would be giving us a way to communicate with the coward."

"A shame it has been broken for days," Chirp-Breep scoffed.

"Um..."

Everyone turned.

"Actually..." began Daikon. Fern thought he looked a little embarrassed, if he was interpreting his pose correctly. He still had some trouble identifying the mannerisms of meat-based life forms. At least the Utwig were helpful enough to wear their emotions on their faces. "Actually, um, I can fix it. It's simple, just a few broken wires. I was just sick of him announcing at every stray meteor as the next threat to Spathi-kind."

"Ha!" cried Meep-Neep. "A deception! But an excusable one if I ever heard one."

"One could hardly blame you for that. How long would it take you to fix it?"

"About ten minutes, sir."

Fern nodded. "Go do that, please." As the small Shofixti scurried away, he turned to Brakky Twitty. "The Spathi's psychological profile indicates that he won't respond well to reason in this mood. We'll need an... alternative way to coax him out."

"Aha! Say no more, my verdurous friend!" exclaimed the Pkunk. "I can sense your requirements! I'll be back shortly." And with that, she fluttered away.

"Good." Fern turned to his friend. "Duna," he said. "I'll need to set a trap."

"Ah. Yes," the Utwig replied, dreamily. Her eyes sparkled behind her mask. "I believe I know what you're thinking. It is simple, but efficient. I will find something suitable and perform the appropriate rituals."

Fern nodded, his leaves shaking with pleasure at his friend's approval, and watched her leave.

"Now," he said, turning to the two remaining crew members. "I'll need you to stand on each side of the door..."

 

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, the intercom turned on with a little chime.

 _"Good Morning, My Little Victims,"_ said renowned B-FunRom actor Christopher Price (real name: Irwin Mongoose), in an over-the-top imitation of an Ilwrath. _"I Am Coming To Get You And Tear Out Your Pitiful Little Limbs One By One. Do Not Think You Can Hide From Me. Any Tasty Little—"_

Here, a different, higher-pitched voice said, _"—Spathi—"_

_"—Who Does Not Run Will Be Sacrificed To Our Evil Gods Of Evil, Dogar And Kazon. Mwa Ha Ha Ha Ha!"_

Then, a human female was briefly heard screaming before the intercom was hastily switched off.

The door to the crew cabin opened with a whirring sound, and a green blur came through — and flew straight into one of Duna's many spare robes.

Fern approached the tangled mess of Spathi and cloth. "Hello, Captain Fwiffo," he said. "We need to have a word with you."

 

* * *

 

Duna stood in the center of the cockpit. She had changed into her Mask of Patience in the Face of an Unexpected Complication — an unpleasant mask to wear, but, in her line of work, one that was often necessary.

"As you can see," Fwiffo was saying, and Duna could detect more than a trace of bitterness in his voice, "my actions were all perfectly rational. Having no immediate way of solving this calamity, I have given priority to my own survival, which, may I remind you, is equivalent to that of this ship. Now, if all your questions have been answered, I believe I shall return to doing just that."

"Hold, Spathi!" Chirp-Breep grabbed Fwiffo's arm. "We are not being finished with ye."

"Aye," Meep-Neep agreed. "Or are ye not wishing to get out of this?"

Fwiffo shuddered, but did not argue. Duna sensed great fear emanating from the creature, and once again she felt the desire to help the unfortunate soul with the all-encompassing knowledge of the Ultron. But this was not the time or place for such thoughts. She turned her attention back to the message situation at hand.

So far, any attempt the decipher the message had proved pointless. With some reluctant assistance from Fwiffo, Daikon had figured out how to run a speech recognition program and was trying to find a match with know alien languages.

Any attempt to contact their unseen menace had likewise been unsuccessful. The words "Hold! What you are doing to us is wrong! Why do you do this thing?" had no observable result. It made Duna wish to perform rituals of shame and regret for forgetting to pack her Mask of Puzzlement and Confusion.

Captain Zelnick would have an idea on how to proceed, she knew. She had had the honor to serve under him during the War, and experiencing first-hand his insight had filled her with equal parts elation and unworthiness.

But the Heroic Captain was far too busy for such a simple mission. There was diplomacy to arrange, the remaining Ur-Quan insurrections to fight, and Syreen Commander Talana had convinced him to take a short break with her, employing, as far as Duna could tell, a mind control trick involving the jiggling of the protuberances on her chest. That one seemed to work very well on humans, she'd noticed.

(The Syreen had always filled Duna with foreboding and unease, with the way they'd take over the minds of their enemies without even giving them the chance to change into their Veil of Psychic Coercion — a serious breach of Mask Etiquette. But the Ultron, in its all-seeing wisdom, revealed to her that they were no threat, and the Ultron Saint possessed a fondness for them, so she cast away her prejudice, donned the Shroud of Interspecies Understanding, and committed herself to the hallowed Endeavor of Galactic Harmony.

She still wore the Mask of Well-Mannered Yet Guarded Friendliness around them, though.)

Beside her, the two Yehat, stood still holding Fwiffo down, though he did not seem inclined to make any escape attempts. Waves of frustration exuded from the winged aliens, interwoven with the sharp fear of the Spathi. Meanwhile, Daikon was still busy at the console, and Brakky Twitty had stayed behind to talk with the other Shofixti. Duna felt regret at her absence. Despite their Ultron-less existence, the Pkunk were a spiritually enlightened race, and her presence always pleased her.

She felt Fern wrap his leaves gently around her arm. The gesture brought her comfort.

"Um."

Everyone turned to look at Daikon. "The computer found a match."

"Well?" asked Meep-Neep. "What is it?"

"Um. It's." Daikon fidgeted. "It's Ur-Quan. Kohr-Ah dialect."

There was silence, and Duna felt a surge of foreboding and dread rising within her. She remembered the Kohr-Ah and their fiery bringers of death far too well. She did not fear them, of course — how could she, when the infinite aura of the Ultron filled her being? — but she could not forget the destruction they brought with them.

"A Kohr-Ah?" Fern asked. "Without a translation?"

"I certainly would not be blaming them if they decided to exterminate the hellish little creatures, awk!" said Chirp-Breep.

"Ye would," said Meep-Neep. "Just to be contrary."

"Still, what would sending us an untranslated message accomplish?"

"Intimidation?" suggested Meep-Neep.

"This is a Spathi Eluder," Chirp-Breep pointed out. "It could have sent birthday greetings and achieved the same effect."

Fern shook his head. "This is not consistent with the Kohr-Ah's known methods — by which I mean the fact that they haven't tried to kill us yet. Besides, they are rarely seen in these parts."

"Can we translate it?" asked Meep-Neep.

"Not with the technology we have on board," answered Daikon. "They always use those pets."

"The matter is still shrouded in mystery. We have only shed a little light on it," Duna said, annoyance washing over her being. She disliked uncertainty — it served only as a painful reminder of the Ultron's distance. If only she were closer... She turned to Daikon. "In the meantime, I believe it would be beneficial to compare the message to recorded Kohr-Ah speech in the ship's data files."

"Yes, sir. That shouldn't take long. The only recordings of Kohr-Ah speech came from intercepting their private communications. We don't have many."

Everyone went quiet again as the little Shofixti busied himself with the console.

There was a whimper from the corner.

Duna turned to look. Fwiffo was crouching on the metal floor.

"A Kohr-Ah. Just a Kohr-Ah." He was rocking slightly back and forth. "I fought three Marauders at the Sa-Matra."

"I think we broke Captain Fwiffo," said Daikon, peering over his shoulder at the trembling Spathi.

Fern moved forward. "Captain? Are you all right?"

Fwiffo made a sobbing sound. "Oh, certainly! How can I not rejoice knowing that we're all going to die horribly and probably in great pain? But now there's a very slight chance that it won't be here! The statistical probability of surviving a Marauder attack is slightly higher than that of surviving the Ultimate Evil." He sounded slightly hysterical. "I've blown up a Marauder before."

"That's the spirit," said Fern uncertainly, patting him on the head. Fwiffo didn't flinch, which Duna decided to interpret as a good sign.

"Hey, the computer found something!"

"Yes?"

"It almost perfectly matches a recording taken at... Epsilon Lipi... three years ago."

Fern tilted his head. "Three years ago?"

"Are the knaves known to repeat themselves often?" asked Chirp-Breep.

"Not to my knowledge, no."

"'Almost perfectly'?" asked a voice from the floor.

"Yes, Captain Fwiffo," said Daikon. "There's some background noise, but there's probably just interference."

"No," said Fwiffo, and Duna could feel a sudden, great weariness coming from him. "Analyze the extra sounds."

"With all respect, Captain, I don't see—"

"Ensign Daikon, your Captain has given you an order," Meep-Neep snapped.

"Yes, sir!"

For a few moments, silence filled the room.

Then, Daikon's face broke into an unsightly smile. "Captain Fwiffo, you're a genius," he said.

"I am sure you say that to everyone whose piloting skills your life depends on."

"What is it, then?" asked Chirp-Breep.

"Here, listen." Daikon pressed a button. With a crackle, the loudspeaker turned on.

It said: _"Har! Har! Har!"_

 

* * *

 

To Fwiffo's horror but complete lack of surprise, dangers were, as always, just around the corner (or, in this case, one Hyperspace jump away), and safety was as elusive as ever.

As soon as they began to move away from their blobby tormentors, a dozen of their dreadful ships materialized, blocking their escape and trapping them in Truespace. Clearly, having seen that their fiendish schemes to brutally scare him to death had failed, they were resorting to a backup plan, like in that terrifying FunRom his old Hunam crew had shown him telling him it was a documentary.

That plan probably involved inflicting him with pain until his screaming pleas for mercy satiated their sadistic desires or he ceased to be alive, whichever came first, which was probably the latter.

Fwiffo of course could fly circles around a Drone any day of the week, which was clearly the reason they'd only appeared when his ship was damaged. Unlike the foolishly optimistic aliens he was surrounded with, he knew better than to expect the universe to be kind to him.

All he wanted to do was to find something big and safe to hide behind, but he knew it would be a bad, probably fatal, idea. Left alone, his suicidal crew would no doubt choose a course of action that would result in death, and Fwiffo rather enjoyed living, at least compared to the alternatives.

Brakky Twitty had once described death as an adventure. Adventures, in Fwiffo's experience, tended to involve danger, pain, and things shooting lasers at him — all of which, he had to admit, were already regular features of his existence, but as long as he was in the world of the living he had the option of facing them with the aid of fully armed starships.

So, instead, he simply prayed to the Hopefully Benevolent One for mercy, preferably in the form of continued life, though he'd be willing to settle for a pleasant and secure afterlife.

"I believe it may be time to don the Mask of Lamentable but Unavoidable Military Activity and perform the ceremonial battle preparations," Duna said, with terrifying solemnity. "They are attempting the Dandelion Formation. Watch how the front ships arrange themselves in the typical phalanx formation, while the flanks and the rear ship face away from us, aligning themselves along precise vectors so that simply activating their retro-propulsion systems will block—"

"Yes, I'm sure that we're all clamoring for more lectures while the enemy ships with death-wielding weapons approach," Fwiffo interrupted quickly, before the Utwig could depart on another one of her tangents. It would be nice for his poor, tortured nerves if she could just _focus_ without assistance. "But, more importantly, how do we get out of here, and are our chances of survival non-existent or just extremely low?"

Duna turned around. "What is the damage to the ship?"

"Weapon systems are online, but we're not done repairing the thrust modules and turning jets, so acceleration and maneuverability are still severely impaired."

"We'd have better chances of convincing them to join the Alliance, then."

"Can't we just charge them and do as much damage as we can?" Daikon asked.

"No! No!" Fwiffo felt his parapodia twitch. That's what he got for associating with such insane, suicidal, brain-addled aliens! "That would achieve nothing but certain death! Which, I think I need to remind you, is a bad thing!"

"But the objective is to destroy the enemy, or cause as much damage as possible."

"The objective is to stay alive in as little pain as possible! You should always remember that! It's not that hard!"

"But there's no honor in that!"

"No! Just _more life_!"

"Eliminating one's enemies and preserving one's self are both essential aspects of warfare," Duna cut in. "As with everything in life, it is important to strike a balance. The Ultron—"

"Braak! What's important here is protecting our wards from danger!"

"Aye! Never again shall we stand by and watch as — YEEP! — as our children are taken away from us!"

Meep-Neep and Chirp-Breep looked at each other. Fwiffo began to curl slowly into his shellcase.

"Whoopdy Dee and Trolly Bazoo! I sense the love!" Brakky Twitty exclaimed, fluttering into the command room. "It calls to me like the sweet fruit of the Minor Daglarian tree! I am bursting with pride at the sight of you!"

"Incoming transmission!" Daikon shouted. The viewscreen blinked on, and Fwiffo found himself staring into a bloated pink face full of horrible omens (as well as eyes, mouths, and little fleshy hand-shaped things it was probably best not to think too much about).

_"Well, pop my pupae! It a Spathi coward! Har! Har! Har! Leaving so soon?"_

_"You figured out joke too early. That not fun!"_

_"Har! Har! Har! Should play some more. It been while since we seen favorite playthings!"_

_"Yes, we not see Spathi cowards around much these days. Hey! Means you allied with Great Enemy!"_

_"That gives me idea! Denounce Alliance and Human Captain and we not blast you out of sky."_

_"Har! Har! Har! If feeling generous, might even not record and send to Captain! Har! Har! Har!"_

_"Good joke, huh? Har! Har! Har!"_

Fwiffo buried his face in his claws.

The proposal was, of course, absurd. The Alliance was the only thing left in the whole big, scary universe that was willing to protect him, and he was surrounded by aliens who were very loyal to it.

Besides, Fwiffo rather liked the Captain. The Captain was _nice_ to him. Granted, the Captain also had the habit of making him do incredibly dangerous things, but he was polite about it, and he'd only threatened to pluck his claws out and stick them in his eyeball once, which was more kindness than most people had shown him in recent memory.

The Captain would have destroyed these Umgah. Well, what he _would_ have done was foolishly try to talk sense into them until he could see the inside of their Anti-matter Vents, at which point he'd finally be forced to blast them out of existence, because there was a certain amount of diplomatic stupidity that a spaceship suited for planetary destruction could excuse, but the point—

—the _point_ was that the Captain would not have had to deal with _this_.

He probably wouldn't have believed the one about the Grand Master Planet Eaters, either.

Well, Fwiffo was a captain, too. Granted, he'd only become captain by default after all the other members of the Earthguard had deserted, but after seven years of staying alive in the face of extreme terrors he figured he'd earned a little respect. And a nice retirement in a big, safe, well-guarded mansion as well.

All his instincts were screaming at him to run, which was normal. However, he began to feel something else drowning them out. Had he been born an Utwig, he would have recognized this as the time to bring out the rarely seen Expression of Rapidly Dwindling Patience with the Stupidity of the Rest of the World. As it was, he merely felt his ichors pulse through his body with strange ferocity.

"Oh, _certainly_!" he said. "How could I possibly not put my trust in the generosity of the race whose idea of diplomacy is to play pranks of a needlessly cruel and potentially lethal nature on their unsuspecting victims. Which, may I add, weren't even that funny, you— you—" Fwiffo began to falter as his brain finally caught up with his sound-emitting apparatus and started screaming at it.

"Dweebs!" Brakky Twitty supplied.

"Putrid sacks of withered reproductive organs?" Daikon suggested.

This had a less than desirable, though hardly surprising, effect.

"Hm." Fwiffo, from inside his shellcase, vaguely heard Duna speak. "An unusual tactic, but potentially an effective one. Incontrollable laughter _can_ severely hinder a pilot's ability to control a ship."

"As fun as mocking the Spathi may be," Meep-Neep snapped, "perhaps ye should be concentrating on finding a solution to this predicament."

"No, no," said Fern. "I think we're onto something here. They won't attack us if we keep them amused. Captain Fwiffo, can you keep yelling at them?"

Fwiffo whimpered.

"Yes, I see your point. What else do we have? We just need to keep them distracted until we get far enough to jump to Hyperspace."

As one, every head in the room turned to Brakky Twitty.

 

* * *

 

This is how the voidship StarRunner slipped past Alpha Mersenne, as the Umgah Captains O'bargy, O'guk'e, Kwik'ow, I'buba, Ei'Ei'o, and Bob found themselves endlessly amused as the Melnorme FunRom 'Fuzzy's Wild Ride' ("XXX hot chix extra wing action XXX") was transmitted to their ships, filling their screens with very interesting images. The captains of the VUX fleet who received a strange unidentified transmission two months later were not quite as amused.  



End file.
